


Undocumented Features

by Bright_Elen



Series: Reconstructive Teamwork [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Ableist Language, Disability, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, POV Bodhi Rook, Physical Disability, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-16 22:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15447144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Elen/pseuds/Bright_Elen
Summary: Bodhi('s arm) needs repairs. K-2 helps.





	Undocumented Features

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misskatieleigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskatieleigh/gifts).



> Betaed by the discerning and talented [SassySnowperson](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaticEntrance/pseuds/SassySnowperson). 
> 
> Happy Birthday, Katie! It was serendipitous that it fell on the "Repairs" day of [Droid Appreciation Week](https://droid-appreciation-week.tumblr.com/).

Bodhi woke up and didn’t know where he was. The bunk he was lying on had some traces of bright blue paint on the back wall. It didn't look familiar. He yawned and stretched and rolled over to see if that would jog his memory.

He stared. He’d definitely never seen the room before. There was no way he could forget the brightly-colored murals on basically every surface: walls, ceiling, storage compartments, even a little on the floor. The large piece on the ceiling was clearly a family portrait, but the rest of it looked like a kid had doodled whatever caught their interest at various moments. At least the crossed-out Stormtrooper helmets removed any doubt that he was in an Imperial facility. 

And if none of that gave him any clue about where he was, he was in trouble. Had be been drugged? Had he gone out drinking, had way too much, and gotten picked up? The bed was wide enough for two, even if he was alone. He didn’t usually go for the artistic type, but at certain levels of despair he tended not to be too picky, either.

But that wasn’t it. He didn’t have a hangover. What the  _ kriff.  _ Something was very, very wrong. 

Heart hammering, he took regular breaths and tried to focus on his surroundings. 

“Okay, Rook. Figure this out now, cry later,” he muttered under his breath. “Okay. Okay. I’m in a bedroom, probably on a ship—” he listened, and, sure enough, when he was paying attention, he could easily pick up the low background hum of engines— “Scratch that, definitely on a ship. Definitely not an Imperial ship. Kriff, what day is it? Am I AWOL? If I am I should probably stay that way, Force, that’s the only way to stay out of a labor camp now, kriff.” 

He had to get up, figure out where he was. Figure out why the  _ kriff  _ he didn’t remember anything. Figure out what to do next. 

Bodhi sat up and moved to push his hair back from his eyes, but froze. 

“My arm,” he said, shock flattening his voice. “This is not my arm.” That was an impressive understatement. His right arm was karking  _ gone  _ from the bicep down and in its place was a skeletal, black metal prosthetic that he wanted to throw across the damn room.

Just as the rising panic threatened to make him hyperventilate, the barrier between himself and his memories disappeared, and the past six months flooded back: Galen, defection, Saw and the attendant horror, the destruction of NiJedha, Eadu, being yelled at and threatened and held in contempt by the Alliance council, Scarif, goodbye right limbs, Medical and Medical and Medical and Medical, Home One, rebuilding Kay’s chassis, he and Kay getting together,  _ finally  _ getting cleared for duty, Hera needing to take on lower-risk missions because of her pregnancy, Bodhi wanting lower risk in general, he and Kay joining the crew of the Ghost, moving into Sabine’s old room, all the various supply runs and rescues and other miscellaneous missions they’d done in the last few weeks, all the planning sessions for the mission today.

Bodhi let out a long breath. Ran his organic hand down his face. “Kriff.” 

He honestly preferred the nightmares to complete disorientation. He’d lost and gained so much in the last few months that forgetting they’d happened was like having even more of himself torn away. 

Not to mention the fact that in wartime, most people had nightmares, but he didn’t know anyone else who misplaced entire months of memories without warning. It made him feel exceptionally broken. 

Resting his forehead on his knees, he wished Kay were there. To talk to, or hold him, or just...be. But Bodhi couldn’t bring himself to seek comfort. If he were being honest, he was afraid of doing it too often. He was so incredibly tired of his own problems. It was only a matter of time before Kay got tired of them, too.

It’s why Bodhi hadn’t made any promises. Not for lack of wanting to — it was a little ridiculous how much he wanted to stay with Kay forever — but because he didn’t want Kay to feel obligated. 

The door hissed open, and Bodhi jumped.

“Good morning, Bodhi,” Kay said, then looked more closely. “You are distressed.” 

Bodhi smiled wryly. “Just the usual. I’ll be fine.” 

“Hm,” Kay said skeptically. He came closer, bent low over the bunk, and brushed a few long strands of hair out of Bodhi’s face. “If you are unwell, I will tell Hera to modify the mission.” 

“No, Kay,” Bodhi said, pushing aside his fears and getting out of bed. “I’m good.” He checked his chrono. “We still have two hours before the drop point, yeah?”

“Yes,” Kay said, and stood up to give Bodhi room. 

Bodhi had meant to stay on-task, but Kay was close and he couldn’t resist leaning in for a hug, synthetic arm clanking a little on the droid’s plating. “Good morning, Kay.”

Kay was also maybe not doing great on the productivity front, because he folded Bodhi into his arms, one hand sinking into his hair. “I have prepared the virus and the magnetic field nullifiers,” he said, slowly stroking Bodhi’s back. “But I refuse to repaint Chopper for infiltration.” 

Bodhi chuckled. “Fine. I’m gonna call in the favor I won off Hera.” 

“She said you’d say that, and that gestation makes it difficult for her to bend over.”

“Uuuuuuuuugh,” Bodhi groaned theatrically into Kay’s chest plate. “Fine.” 

“Your sacrifice is commendable.”

“Shut it.”

* * *

Mothma had tasked them with locating and acquiring military-grade shield generators. Just a few days ago, they’d gotten a good lead on some nearly-functional generators headed for an Imperial contractor’s decommissioning facility and the mission was planned in record time.

In the first three phases, everything went as planned: one, Bodhi and the droids let themselves into the central disassembly chamber (and one point five, Kay broke off to upload a spy virus to the facility’s mainframe). Two, Bodhi and Chopper put magna-blinders on the generators before the scrapper drones got to them and started tearing them apart. Three, they moved the generators to the back exit and waited for Hera. 

The successes only put Bodhi on edge (you didn’t survive occupation and employment by, defection from, and rebellion against the Empire without developing a healthy paranoia, okay), but even then he still wasn’t fast enough to keep the drones from grabbing Chopper and dragging him towards the fiery maw of the smelter.

«KRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFF!»

Bodhi yelled too, grabbed the backup magna-blinders and his blaster, and ran forward. He shot the scrapper drones holding Chopper, adding a sparking hole where one’s optical sensor had been, disabling the other’s arm at the elbow joint. As they recoiled from the impacts, they let their hold loosen enough for the astromech to break free momentarily, but the drones immediately grabbed him again, this time from the legs. Even his jet roaring and taser sparking uselessly against the scrappers weren’t enough to get loose. 

Bodhi kept running, dodging scrappers and scrap alike, and lunged forward, trying to get a magna-blinder onto Chopper. The drones were constantly readjusting their grips on the struggling droid, and it was Bodhi’s bad luck for the week that his hand landed right under the closing pincers of the scrapper. He was pinned, grimacing as the drones crushed his arm’s radial assembly and hydraulics against Chopper’s leg. 

Thank Force it wasn’t his organic arm.

Before the magna-blinder fell from his now-useless metal fingers, Bodhi grabbed it with his left hand and slapped it on Chopper.

The scrappers stopped. After a second, they let go of Chopper and Bodhi both, and the rebels could dash back to where they’d left the generators. It was another few minutes before Hera was scheduled to arrive, so Bodhi took the time to catch his breath and assess the damage to his arm.

It looked bad. Needed-parts-they-didn’t-have bad.  _ Great. Now I’m even more broken.  _

His comm crackled to life with Hera’s voice. “Specters Three, Eight and Nine, status report.”

“This is Specter Eight,” Bodhi said. “Targets acquired. Specter Three and I are ready for pickup.” 

“Good work, Specter Eight. Pickup in two minutes,” said Hera. “Specter Nine?”

“I have successfully uploaded the virus,” K-2SO said, and Bodhi smiled to hear him alive and well. “Ready for pickup.”

As promised, Hera arrived right on time, mag-locked the generators, and all the ground operatives boarded. Chopper raced to the cockpit, Kay headed for the upper turret, and Bodhi for the fore. 

“Chop, get me those coordinates,” Hera said while Bodhi frantically hit switches at double-speed to get the cannons started up one-handed. “Now! Did you forget about the blockade?!” 

«I almost died!» 

“You’ll  _ definitely  _ die if we don’t get out of here!” Hera snapped back. “Now do your job!”

«I  _ am,  _ stars, calm your tits,» Chopper muttered. A few seconds later, the stars blurred, and the Ghost was free, no shootouts with Imperial cruisers required.

Bodhi sagged in relief against his seat in the lower turret. He wasn’t a terrible shot but he was happier when their lives didn’t rely on ‘not terrible’. 

He was just gathering himself up to grab some caf, maybe something to eat, when there were heavy footfalls behind him.

“Kay,” Bodhi smiled, and even as tired as he was, it was easy to stand up if it meant wrapping his arms around Kay and resting his forehead against his chest.

“Hello, Bodhi.” Long arms folded around Bodhi, metal hands settling on his shoulder blades, close enough for all the little sounds of servos and fans and secondary processors to be audible. Bodhi closed his eyes and let himself relax into the embrace, grateful for another mission they’d both survived, another enemy escaped, another day together. For the longest time he hadn’t thought he’d ever have something so good and he intended to savor every second. 

After a while, Kay shifted. “You seem unhurt but I would like verification.”

Bodhi took a step back and smiled wryly, holding up his busted arm. “Other that this, just bruises.”

Kay hummed acknowledgement but went ahead with his own inspection anyhow. It was pretty obvious that Cassian either tended not to notice all of his own wounds, had repeatedly lied to Kay about them, or both. And however long it took a droid to break a habit, that time hadn’t passed yet.

That was fine. Bodhi liked it when Kay ran his hands and eyes over him from head to toe, remarkably gently for a droid made to manhandle. Actually, the first time, Bodhi had been worried he’d enjoy it  _ too  _ much, but somehow the touch always stayed somewhere between inoffensive and soothing. 

While Kay was doing that, Bodhi looked the droid over as best he could. Kay had only picked up a light layer of dust from the quick escape, nothing a brush-down and oil on his joints wouldn’t fix. Bodhi couldn’t be sure about other things, though.

“How did the slice go? Have you done a virus scan on yourself?”

“The current deep scan will be complete in four minutes,” Kay answered as he knelt to get better access to Bodhi’s legs.

“Did you have any problems in the control room?”

“I was accosted by a tech who thought I needed a software update, but I rendered her unconscious before she could try anything. You were correct in your assessment of your injuries.” 

Relaxing a little more as Kay returned to standing, Bodhi smiled and waved his synthetic arm. “Well, we’d better get on this.” 

“By ‘we’ you mean me,” Kay corrected.

“Oh come on, I still have one hand. That’s got to be good for something.” It let him climb the ladder up to crew quarters without much difficulty, for one thing.

Hera was just entering her own room. “Six and a half hours to the first jump point,” she said, then both eyebrows disappeared under her helmet. “Wow, Bodhi, what did you do to your arm?”

«Threw himself between me and a scrapper drone,» Chopper said from the cockpit.

Kay gave Bodhi a hard look.

Bodhi drew himself up to his full (admittedly, not very impressive) height. “It was that or let him get smelted!”

«See, at least SOMEONE cares if I die,» Chopper added. It was kind of touching, really, that he hadn’t called Bodhi an idiot.

Hera smiled. “You’re a good man, Bodhi Rook.” Then she yawned, stretched, and rubbed her back. It seemed to be bothering her more as her belly grew, and Bodhi couldn’t blame her. “All right, you know where all the specialty tools are if you need them. I’m going to nap for a few hours.  _ Only  _ wake me up,” and here she gave Chopper a meaningful look, “if there’s an emergency.”

“Understood,” Kay said, and Bodhi saluted the General as she closed her door.

«She’s really does need rest,» Chopper said to them. «At least  _ try  _ to fuck quietly.» 

Bodhi’s face heated up all the way to his ears, and he put both hands over his face. “That was ONE time.”

Kay loomed over Chopper. “You have embarrassed Bodhi. Leave now.” 

«Save your intimidation tactics for people they work on, Legs!» Chopper cackled softly as he rolled back towards the cockpit, and Bodhi finally let himself into the room he shared with Kay.

Confusing as it had been that morning, it made Bodhi happy. Just as his long hair had helped him feel like not every last part of him belonged to the Empire, it was satisfying to have quarters  that would give an Imperial officer an aneurysm. After Sabine had given him her blessing, Bodhi had even added his own small painting: a cartoonish human skull wreathed in blue flame on the wall over Kay’s charging dock. The droid had criticized his technique before declaring it a desirable addition to the space nonetheless.

Bodhi opened one storage compartments after the other, pulling out tools and parts he thought they might need. He cradled most of them with his right arm, though soon he reached the limit of what he could carry with balance alone, and brought it all to the two-level workbench. Kay had already turned on the extra light and was setting out other tools on his worktop. 

It was far from the first time Bodhi had seen Kay work, but he could still watch for hours. The way a tool in Kay’s hand would behave just as desired; the calm, sure way he examined hardware; even the curve of his posture over the workbench and the amber tinge over whatever he was looking at; all of it gave Bodhi a sense of peace.

“It will be easiest for me if you’re sitting on the upper level,” Kay said, still organizing the parts Bodhi had brought. “Shall I assist you?”

There had been a talk, shortly after their first night together, about how even lovers still needed to ask permission to manhandle each other. Bodhi still wasn’t sure exactly how much of that was about good boundaries, how much was about his personal traumas, and how much was about the fact that he found it  _ really hot _ that Kay could lift him effortlessly. 

“Sure.” He tried not to get flustered. But then Kay stepped close, leaned down, put his hands just under Bodhi’s ass, and lifted, and Bodhi’s heart sped up. Being pressed close to Kay’s chest only increased the feeling.

He refused to waste the opportunity to kiss Kay’s face plate. Kay hummed, pleased, and waited until Bodhi pulled back to set him down on the bench. Then he gently took Bodhi’s prosthetic hand in his own and leaned closer, optics adjusting as he magnified. 

“The hydraulic orbital is cracked, as well as the radial axis. They must be replaced. The radial yoke is only bent and can be repaired.” 

Bodhi huffed. “Can we refurbish the orbital? We don’t have any spares, last I checked.”

Kay was already busy uninstalling it, hand dwarfing the small-gauge screwdriver, but no less dextrous.

“There’s a twenty-eight percent chance it is only the casing which is damaged,” Kay said, head bent over Bodhi’s arm. “In which case, you will probably be able to weld it back together.”

“Mm.” Bodhi laid his other hand lightly on Kay’s shoulder. Not for support or balance or to communicate anything. Just because he liked touching him. “If not, do you think we could jury rig something?”

“The best improvised solution has a forty-one percent chance of success.” Now Kay was unplugging the hoses from the orbital, bleeding the remaining hydraulic fluid onto rags. “While you have a ninety-three percent chance of successfully persuading Hera to take us somewhere with a good market.”

Bodhi’s mouth twisted. “Would still mean waiting.” 

Kay finished with the hoses, then moved on to the wiring, using a soldering iron to melt the connections away. Bodhi did his best not to breathe in the fumes from it, and not to squirm too much.

Sometimes, even just seeing tools applied to his arm got tangled up with phantom limb pain and the wounds Bor Gullet left in his mind. Not looking was better than risking a screaming flashback, so he distracted himself by tracing Kay’s chassis with his eyes. 

Bodhi started with the seam that ran from the back of Kay's skull casing, down the side of his head and to the back of his ‘jaw’. Bodhi liked to run his fingers over that spot. He avoided doing the same with Kay’s shoulder joints, aware of the potential for getting caught in the moving parts, but it was perfectly safe to rest his hands on the smooth, domed surface of the droid’s upper arms. 

His lower arms were nice, too, narrow enough for Bodhi to grasp comfortably, strong enough to hold a blast door open for a few seconds. His pelvic cradle was the right height for Bodhi to rest his arms on when they hugged, and Bodhi had always liked the angles of the upper surface counterbalancing the roundness of the inner joints. All of it, he knew down to the micrometer, tensile strength, alloy ratio.

And then there were the things that could only come from knowing the person the chassis belonged to: Kay disliked anything inside his elbow joints, for one, though he didn’t mind Bodhi curling fingers into his wrists. The way his access hatches wouldn’t open without either Kay’s own consent, or his incapacitation combined with Bodhi’s voice print. The way a certain kind of ion burst would induce a tactile experience not unlike tickling. The way a different kind of ion burst induced pleasurable overclocking.

“The soldering is done,” Kay announced, dragging Bodhi back from his increasingly-racy thoughts.

“Thanks,” Bodhi said, a little breathily.

Kay put the soldering iron aside, carefully grasped the orbital and lifted it out of Bodhi’s arm.

“As I predicted, this is beyond repair,” Kay said after a moment’s inspection. “The damage is too extensive.”

Heart sinking, Bodhi held out his hand. “Let me see?” 

Without the rest of the prosthetic to obscure it, Bodhi could see the crack, running most of the way through the casing. The two halves were askew, the whole shape of the part changed, and there was something rattling around inside that shouldn’t have been. 

“What if we...there has to be a way…” The words dried up in his mouth.

“There isn’t,” Kay said, definitive.

Bodhi shook his head. “No, if we open it, fix the internal components—”

“I know you dislike going one-handed,” Kay cut in, “but the time and effort required to repair this item are better spent elsewhere.” He closed his fingers around the orbital and started pulling it away from Bodhi.

Bodhi didn’t let go, “You don’t have to do it. I’ll take care of it." 

Kay tugged again. "I can dispose of it." 

"It's just," Bodhi's voice rose in volume before he could quiet it down again, "stop! I'm not ready to get rid of it!"  

Kay made an exasperated noise. "Keeping a broken part is counterproductive." 

“But it’s my choice.” Bodhi was starting to feel overwhelmed— hand sweating, heart speeding up — with the need to make Kay understand. “I wouldn’t make you throw out parts for your chassis!”

Kay did not appear to understand. “I wouldn’t try to keep an irreparably broken part. You’re being irrational.”

“I’m okay with that,” Bodhi hissed, and tried to pull the orbital back. “Just let go!”

Of course, Kay’s grip was immovable. “And let you waste time and resources?”

"You don’t know that!” Bodhi pleaded, and now his whole body was jittery with adrenaline, anger, desperation. “You don’t have to throw things away the first time they break!”

“I throw them away when they cannot be repaired,” Kay snapped. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“I can fix it! You don’t have to get rid of me!”

They both froze, Bodhi dying a little of mortification under Kay’s optics. 

“It. I meant ‘it,’” he said weakly, cursing himself for bringing up his insecurities. “Sorry.”

Kay let go of the orbital as his drives and fans picked up speed, probably to simulate scenarios or maybe search his databanks.

“Ah,” Kay said after a moment, refocusing his optics on Bodhi. “Bodhi. Are you worried that I will end our relationship?”

Flushing deeply, Bodhi tried to hide his face, but one hand didn’t really do the job. He couldn’t even do that right.

“I didn’t know where I was this morning,” he admitted. “Like the last six months never happened. And now we don’t have the parts for my arm. Can you really say you’re fine with how broken I am?”

“Bodhi,” Kay said gently, “you’re not—”

“Of course I am!” Bodhi hissed, still trying to stay quiet. “I’m missing an arm and a leg, nightmares keep me awake at least a quarter of the time, I can’t even look at anything with tentacles, I drift in and out of amnesia, and those are just the things from  _ after  _ my defection! Of kriffing  _ course  _ I’m broken, Kay.” 

And, shit. Now there were tears on his face.

“I was going to say, you’re not thinking logically about this,” Kay said, voice sharp with annoyance. “Based on your observations of my behavior, do you think I am aware of the details of your conditions?”

“Of course.” 

“That is correct, well done,” Kay said, only a little sarcastically. “Next: based on your observations, describe my behavior when I encounter things or situations I find disagreeable.”

“You tell everyone in a three-klick radius all about it.” 

“More like half a kilometer, but close enough,” Kay conceded. “When do I leave a person or situation?”

Bodhi swallowed. “After you’ve told them off. Or if it’s dangerous. Or boring.”

“Good. Have I told you off?”

“Well, not yet, no.” 

“Ignoring your pessimism, that is correct. Are you dangerous to me?”

Bodhi shrugged. “As much as anyone who knows your chassis inside and out, I guess.” 

“Wrong. You possess the knowledge to damage me, but lack the will.”

“Fair.” He’d never hurt Kay.

“Good. Are you boring?”

Bodhi’s heart constricted. He opened his mouth to deny it, but nothing came out.

“The correct answer is ‘no,’” Kay provided. 

Bodhi gave him a dubious look.

“You’ll just have to trust my expertise,” Kay said. “I am an expert on what bores me. You are not on that list. Ignore your negative self-image in this regard.” 

Bodhi felt his mouth curling up, just a little. “Okay.” 

“There, you said it yourself: I express my displeasure, and I haven’t expressed it regarding our relationship. Additionally, neither you nor our relationship are dangerous or boring. Conclusion: I’m not going to leave you, Bodhi.” 

Bodhi wanted to believe that. And everything about Kay supported the theory. But he was still choked by fear. “Those things could change. I’ll probably never be cured of all of these conditions. Some of them will likely get worse.”

“And some of them will likely get better,” Kay pointed out. “But both are irrelevant to our relationship status.” 

“Even if I can’t do missions any more? Even if I need help with the simplest things?” Bodhi whispered raggedly. 

“Yes,” Kay said, as if it were that simple.

Bodhi raised his eyes to Kay’s. “Even if I forgot you permanently?”

“That would complicate things,” Kay said, and Bodhi’s heart plummeted even as he felt glad that he’d found where Kay drew the line. “But it would hardly be insurmountable. There are accommodations for living with severe memory loss.” 

Bodhi was crying again. “How can you...stars, maybe you  _ should  _ leave me if it gets that bad. I hate the idea of you staying with me out of pity, or, or obligation.” 

Silence.

“The chances of me doing anything out of pity or obligation are low, Bodhi,” Kay said, dry as a Jedhan rockface. “They’re very low.”

Bodhi jerked his head up, startled, and then burst out laughing. “Okay, yeah, you have a point there.”

The laughter was almost as good a release of tension as crying, though Bodhi did some of that, too. By the time he was done, he was curled into Kay, forehead resting on his shoulder, hanging on with his one good hand. Kay was rubbing slow circles on his back.

“Why…” Bodhi started, and the answer scared him, but maybe not knowing the answer scared him more. “Why don’t you mind?”

Kay’s motions came to a slow stop as his internal components picked up speed. Then he shifted his weight, which he tended to do when uncomfortable or uncertain about something.

Bodhi pulled back to look Kay in the optics, but he avoided Bodhi’s eyes.

“Kay? What is it?” His brain started imagining unhelpfully terrible things that could have been going on in lover’s head, told himself to stop, and only marginally succeeded.

“I do not know how you will feel about my answer, so I am reluctant to give it.” 

Bodhi wanted to be able to say that he didn’t need the answer, but that would be a lie and he didn’t want that kind of distance between them. 

“I don’t know either, but I’d rather know than not,” he said. Touched Kay’s face plate. “For what it's worth, probably ninety-five percent of your possible answers won’t bother me.” 

“Your percentages are imprecise,” Kay grumbled.

Bodhi just raised his eyebrows, refusing to go along with the deflection.

“Fine,” Kay sighed and went very still. “Look at it this way: memory loss, unchosen directives, and uncontrollable aversions are all are symptoms of your trauma-induced instabilities. They’re also symptoms of being an Imperial droid.”

The words settled in Bodhi’s chest like physical objects. He’d always hated how the Empire (and, okay, the galaxy in general) treated droids, but for whatever reason, he’d never compared it to his own problems. But Kay was right. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Hadn’t Kay always been so understanding of Bodhi’s needs and limitations? He’d been bemoaning his own state so much he hadn’t thought to ask why. 

“Oh.  _ Oh. _ Kay,” he said, half-strangled, and surged forward to throw both arms around Kay. “Kay, I...stars. Why would that upset me?”

Kay still didn’t move. “Because I value something that brings you pain.” 

“Kay,” Bodhi said softly. “You’ve done nothing but help me. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“Will you continue to help me?”

“Yes.”

“And, I know this is impossible but just bear with me a second, if you could somehow retroactively prevent me from having acquired these conditions, would you?”

“Yes.” 

Bodhi smiled. “See? You’re committed to helping me no matter what. And, honestly, I’m glad this banthashit is good for something.” He curled his right arm around Kay’s neck, twined the fingers of his left hand with Kay’s, then brought both their hands to his mouth and kissed Kay’s knuckles. “I’m especially glad it brings me closer to you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it before, actually.”

Kay finally relaxed, arms coming up around Bodhi again. “Your heuristic for determining which things you are responsible for gives too many false positives.”

Joy bubbling up in his chest, Bodhi laughed. “Maybe. I guess you’ll just have to help me fix it.” 

“Clearly. You humans, always needing help,” Kay said. “I suppose I’ll have to complete two-handed tasks for you until we repair your arm.”

“Not you. Chopper.” Bodhi grinned. “He owes me his life, he can wait on me for a few days.”

“That is logical and fair,” Kay said.

Bodhi’s face stretched as his grin spread wider. “And has nothing at all to do with your rivalry or feud or whatever you’re calling it.”

“Of course not,” Kay said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Please give me more room. I still need to remove the radial assembly.” 

Scooting back, Bodhi went back to watching Kay’s hands and eyes on the job, fixing the parts of him that didn’t work right. 

For the first time, Bodhi wasn’t worried about whether or not the repairs were successful. 

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. [broken ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qr1-WpWOUk8) always makes me think of this story.
> 
> Come say hi at [bright-elen](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bright-elen) on Tumblr.


End file.
